A Life of Change
by Mandy Kay Miller
Summary: One of the three is killed in a car crash, and the other two have a hard time staying close to each other and going on. Years later, things are still awkward between them. Will it ever heal?
1. Crash

A/N: It was really, REALLY hard for me to decide who to kill off because I love all of the gang, so all __________ fans, please don't take it personally, I love all three of 'em! And this takes place on the last minute of the last day of school their junior year. Wow. They're getting older! Anyway, nothing's really changed except Lizzie and Miranda got over Ethan ('bout time!). Everyone's still wondering if Gordo and Lizzie have a thing for each other, they're still basic-kind-of-a little-bit outcasts, you get the picture. Enjoy!

LIZZIE

"What's the first thing you're gonna do when you get home?" Miranda asked me once the final bell rang ending the school year.

I smiled. "Um… call you."

She laughed. "I'm not gonna be home, though. I'm goin' to the beach!"

"That's great! I got a new bikini that you'll totally _love._"

Miranda paused. "Wait… no. I'm not gonna do that just yet. First I'm gonna torch my notes, then I'm going to the beach."

I laughed as we rushed out into the hallway filled with students, all running around trying to get out. Summer vacation felt great.

I spotted Gordo also wandering, trying to get to his locker. "Gordo!" I called. I raised my arm so he saw us. The place was more crowded than a Destiny's Child concert!

He smiled and made his way towards us. "How's your summer break going?" he asked jokingly.

"Not good so far. I've spent the entire break at school!" I replied.

"We're going down to the beach," Miranda said. "Wanna come?"

"Partying already?"

"It's gotta start sometime, and it might as well be now!"

He smiled. "Well, maybe. But first we have to figure out how to get out of this place. I say they should excuse us class by class, starting with the juniors."

"Ahem," I said. "That's _seniors._ We're seniors now!"

"Eek! Can you believe it? High school sure whips past you…" Miranda said. "It seems like only yesterday we walked into this school as freshmen…"

"Here we go," Gordo muttered. Miranda hit him on the shoulder playfully. "Well, guys, this is my row. I'll see you later." He turned down a row of lockers.

"Will you be at the beach?" Miranda called.

Gordo shrugged and disappeared from view.

"I'll meet you there," Miranda said. "I've got to show you my new car."

"A car?" I demanded. "When did that happen?"

She was glowing. Seriously. Her face was totally lit up by her smile. "Yesterday! I wanted a convertible, but beggars can't be choosers, so…"

"What is it?"

"Ford Focus. It's blue."

"And your parents bought it for you?" I had a hard time believing that. For some reason, I just couldn't imagine Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez buying Miranda her own car.

"Um… kind of. It's theirs _now,_ but I get it when I go to college."

"OK! So we're going to meet there?"

"Yeah. Bye, Lizzie!"

"Bye, Miranda!"

I made my way over to my locker inch by inch and pulled out my bag. I stuffed my stuff in it (pens, pencils, notebooks…) and slung it over one shoulder. I slammed my locker shut. I wouldn't have to do that again for awhile!

I skipped off home, threw my bag down, and quickly changed. I put on my new bikini and put jean shorts on over the bottom. Sandals, towel, sun tan lotion, sunglasses… I was ready!

I rushed out the door and hurried to the beach. Miranda was already there.

"Lizzie! Great bikini," she said.

"Thanks," I replied. "Where's your car?"

She smiled and led me over to the parking lot, and showed me her Focus.

"Looks great," I said. "Is it brand-new?"

She nodded. "Uh-huh. And it has a CD player."

"Cool!"

Miranda grabbed my arm. "But enough of this, let's go scope out the guys!"

We just started walking away from the car when I heard Gordo's voice call us. "Sanchez! McGuire! Wait up!"

We turned and saw him running up to us. Gordo looked a little strange to me without a shirt.

"Hey, Gordo," I said. "Glad you came."

"Just stay at least 10 feet away from me at all times," he replied. "Otherwise people will think I already have a girlfriend, and a spare to go along with her. That'll put a major cramp in my girl-spotting."

Miranda and I laughed. "Likewise," Miranda said. "Can't have those guys thinking we're already attached now, can we?"

We started for the beach a second time when we once again stopped when we heard loud music playing behind us. We turned back around and saw Ethan Craft driving his Mustang convertible with a couple guys and a few girls.

"Not fair!" Miranda wined. "He gets a Mustang? _Convertible?_"

"It isn't his," Gordo replied. "That's what he wants people to think. It's a rental car."

"How do you know?"

"I saw the tag on the keys before he ripped it off."

"Yeah, Miranda, at least you get to keep your car," I said.

"I still say it isn't fair."

~*~

A few hours later, when I was satisfied with my tan and started to get bored, I turned on my side to face Miranda who was also lying on her towel tanning.

"Will you give me a ride home?" I asked.

"Sure!" she answered. "Why not? Are you ready to go?"

"I think so. Unless you wanna stay longer," I replied.

"No, that's fine. I'll just see if Gordo wants a ride."

Miranda got up and waded into the water towards Gordo, who was having a splash fight with another girl. Another _pretty_ girl.

_Woah, there, calm down,_ I told myself. _She can't compete with you. Gordo flirts with her for an hour, but you've been friends with him for the longest time. You're still way higher than her on his Christmas list._

Miranda swam over to them and talked to Gordo for a little bit. He looked at me, then back to her. I was probably as surprised as Miranda was when he pulled out a squirt gun and sprayed her.

I laughed. Then, out of nowhere, streams of water caught me, too. I screamed and leapt up. I stood to face Ethan and two other guys from my school.

"Hey!" I said. "Don't!"

They laughed and continued. I ran into the water and went under, knowing they were waiting for me above. Finally, I came up for air and was sprayed again.

"Quit it! Quit it!" I said.

"Do you surrender?" Ethan asked.

"Yes!"

They stopped. Gordo handed them his gun. "I'm leaving," he said. "See you guys later."

Gordo, Miranda, and I exited the beach together and got in Miranda's car. She was in the driver's seat, I was in the passenger seat, and Gordo was in the back.

"Not a bad car," he said. "New or used?"

"New," Miranda replied. "I'm not sure how my mom'll feel when she finds out that my first time driving it I got it all wet."

Gordo laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's a problem. I'm glad it isn't mine."

"All right, that's it. Get out of the car, I'm takin' Lizzie home," she said smiling. But then she started it and drove off of the parking lot.

"Have you had that note-barbecue yet?" I asked Miranda.

She smiled. "Nope. You're welcome to join me."

"A note-barbecue?" Gordo asked. "That sounds yummy. I hear they taste like chicken."

"You're welcome to come too, Gordo," Miranda said. "It'll be fun."

"Sounds like it," he said sarcastically.

We approached an intersection. Miranda looked both ways and no one was coming. She pulled out. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a car came speeding up and hit us from the side. I was thrown against Miranda and she was thrown against the side car window. The last thing I remembered was hitting her arm and a sharp pain in the back of my head and everything was dark.

A/N: Lizzie didn't necessarily die, if that's what you're thinking. I think she might have gotten knocked out, but I'm not sure…


	2. Wake Up

GORDO

My head hurt so bad that I could feel it pounding. That was just about the only thing that hurt until I tried to move. That unleashed a series of pains… legs, arms, stomach, feet, neck, and just about everything. I groaned.

"Oh, you're awake."

My eyes opened and I saw a redhead nurse looking down at me. "Don't talk," she said. "You need more rest. Your parents are here."

I ignored her command not to talk. What happened to Lizzie and Miranda? I remembered what happened vaguely… I was in a car crash. I remembered getting tossed around in the back seat.

"Where's… Lizzie and Miranda?"

Her face showed her disappointment. "I told you not to talk. If those are the girls in the car with you, then they're in another room sharing. They're alive, but both are in serious condition."

"Why?" I choked out.

"The blond was hit in the head with something that flew up from behind the back seat. I think it was a hardcover book. And the other one hit her head hard on the side window, but it got stopped suddenly by the upper panel. Her brain was damaged."

I ignored my pain and tried to sit up. "I have to see them," I said.

"Stop struggling," she said. She put her hands on my arms to keep me from getting up. "You'll never be able to get up. If you do, you'll never be able to walk. If you can, you'll never find their room."

I sighed and gave up. It was too hard, anyway. Too hard to move, much less overcome the pressure she was putting on me. Once I stopped moving she took her hands off.

I suddenly realized I was hot. I pulled my arms out from the blanket and saw the bloody patches all over my left one.

"What…"

"Your arm flew into the window," she explained. "If you were wearing a seatbelt, you wouldn't have flown that far."

I blinked. I always wear a seatbelt. Don't I?

Then I remembered thinking that this once I didn't have to wear one. I was wrong. Just this once, I should have.

"How am I doing?"

"Just fine. You're going to have to stay here for about a month or so, but you'll be fine afterwards. You'll be able to walk and do sports and such once you recover fully."

I breathed deeply. If Lizzie and Miranda died, I would feel so guilty that I lived without any sacrifice. It seemed wrong, somehow. That my friends died, and I came out without a scratch.

"How bad are they?"

"I told you already. Serious."

"How serious?" I shot back.

She sighed. "You're talking too much. You need to rest more."

"How serious?" I repeated.

The nurse hesitated. "The blond has a 40% chance of living. The other one has 55%. Are you happy?"

No, I wasn't. I actually wanted to cry. Lizzie was probably going to die. Miranda might. And me? I was fine. In a month I'd be running and skipping and having a great time. Without them.

"Where are my parents?" I asked.

"Shh," she said. "I told you, don't talk. Go back to sleep."

"Where are they?"

"You are a stubborn one, aren't you? They're in the waiting room. You can't see them now if that's what you're thinking. There's no way the doctor's going to let them in this early."

"What time is it?"

"It's…" She checked her watch. "7:30. The crash was at 5:15. Now go to sleep, Daniel."

"David," I corrected.

"Go to sleep."

I gave in. Sleep sounded so good right then. It would be an escape from all of my aching bones and pounding head. And when I woke up, I might feel better. Hopefully.

~*~

When I woke up again it was dark outside. I could tell by looking out the window. What time was it now?

I lay awake for a little bit, unable to go back to sleep. My head still hurt, but a little less now. I realized that I couldn't feel my arms.

"Urgh," I mumbled. I started to panic. What happened? Did they amputate my arms?!?!

I heard the door open and someone came in. She walked over to me and started to prepare something that I guessed was a shot.

"What… where are my arms?" I tried to ask. But my speech was slurred so it sounded more like "Wha… war I mlars?"

The nurse was startled. She jumped. "Daniel! You're supposed to be asleep!"

"David," I corrected.

"Your arms are attached to your shoulders. I gave you quite a bit of novocaine for the shots I'm going to give you."

"I hate shots," I said, my voice still slurred.

"That's why we're using the novocaine," she answered.

"Why do I sound like I'm drunk?" I asked.

She smiled. "Novocaine isn't the only drug we gave you. Now I'm going to give you the shot, but I promise you won't even feel it."

I didn't trust her. When I was 4 and went into the doctor for shots he said "I'm going to give it to you on three. One-" then he did it. Ever since, I never trusted doctors.

I braced myself for immense pain, but didn't get it. About a minute later I asked "When are you going to give me the shots?"

"I just did," she replied. "See? I told you you wouldn't feel it."

I blinked. How could I not feel that? It was a needle in my arm! Oh, well.

"Now go back to sleep. It's 1:30 in the morning."

"My parents still here?"

"They're asleep in the waiting room. _Goodnight_." She left.

I felt like yawning but I was too afraid it would trigger too much pain, so I held back. And fell asleep.


	3. *Can... Can I Tell Him?*

A/N: this takes place about 4 days later. Lizzie and Miranda are recovering, but neither of them has woken up yet since the crash.

LIZZIE

My eyes fluttered open. Where was I? What happened?

"Wha…"

"Shh," someone said. "Go back to sleep."

"What happened?" I asked slowly, almost painfully.

"You were in a car accident. Someone slammed into you from the right side. He'd been drinking. Your friend Daniel is showing amazing progress. We estimated about a month for him to stay here, but if he keeps this up he'll be able to go home in a week."

"Daniel?"

"Oh, excuse me. David."

"Gordo!"

The nurse blinked. "I suppose."

I was glad to hear the good news. Gordo was doing well; he'd be up in a week. What about Miranda? Where was she?

"Miranda…?" I asked, almost unable to say more than one word at a time. It hurt too much, and took too much energy to talk.

"She's in this same room. She's been unconscious since the crash, and so have you until now. It's been 4 days."

_4 days?? _I'd been unconscious for _4 days?!_

"Wow…" was all I felt like saying.

She smiled. "It's good you're awake, Elizabeth."

"Lizzie," I said.

"All right, Lizzie. I haven't told your parents yet, but your chances of… well, living are in danger. And your friend Miranda."

I was dying? Now? But I was awake! I'd pulled through! I couldn't die… not now!

"Living?"

"You have a 40/60 chance. The odds aren't in your favor."

For some reason I couldn't believe her. It seemed wrong. I couldn't die… I was in high school! People don't die until they were in their 80s! I was still a teenager. I couldn't die…

I realized then how weak I felt. I couldn't even lift a finger I was so beat. Even blinking seemed like a little bit of work.

"Now… I'm going to give you something to put you back to sleep. You'll wake up in a few hours and then I'll let your family in."

Was she going to let them in to say a few last words before I died? They could be here with me during my last moments?

_Don't be crazy,_ I told myself. _If you were really doomed, she wouldn't bother putting you to sleep._ Seconds later, I was dreaming.

~*~

"There's nothing else we can do!"

"Yes there is! Give me that!"

"Doctor, just let her parents in, for God's sake! Let them see her one last time."

"We can't have them in here while we're trying to work."

"There's no point to working, she's practically dead!"

"Listen to me, nurse!"

"Just let them in!"

Horrified, I listened to the yelling going on in my room. I _was_ dying!

I opened my eyes. I didn't see a doctor and a nurse around me. I turned my head and saw Miranda lying still and a doctor and a nurse standing near her.

Miranda!

The doctor sighed. "Go out and get them. Tell them she'll be gone within 3 minutes."

The nurse rushed out.

I wanted to cry. Miranda was going to die! But… just yesterday we were tanning at the beach. Gordo was squirting her with a squirt gun and she was laughing and telling him to stop.

No, not yesterday. 4 days ago. I remembered the nurse telling me that I'd been unconscious for a few days.

But her liveliness only days before didn't change the reality that was happening in the bed next to me. One of my best friends that I'd ever had, Miranda Sanchez, was dying. And she would be dead within 3 minutes.

I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to let her know how much I appreciated her during the years that we'd been inseparable, but I couldn't because I was too weak to talk. I couldn't even cry. I was too weak to sob.

Miranda's parents hurried in. "Miranda, honey?" her mom asked. "Can you hear me?"

"We love you, Miranda," Mr. Sanchez said. "We always have."

I heard her mom start crying hysterically. "Don't leave us, honey! Don't leave us!"

I tried to block out the rest of her screams and cries and Mr. Sanchez trying to comfort her, and both of them talking to Miranda telling her how much they loved her. I didn't want to listen. It would only make me more sorrowful.

Then, the dreaded words came from the doctor. "She's gone."

Mrs. Sanchez cried out again and the nurse escorted her and her husband out of the room.

At that minute, my heart literally stopped at hearing that she was dead. The doctor ran over to my monitor and got worried, but then it came back. I suppose he was able to guess why my heart stopped, because he said, "I'm sorry about your friend."

"Where's Gordo?" I asked.

"Gordo?"

"David Gordon."

"In his room, why?"

"Can… can I tell him?"

The doctor smiled faintly. "Yes, if you want to. I'll send for him. Stay here and rest." He left.

No more than a minute later, Gordo was in a wheelchair being pushed over to me by a nurse.

"Hey, Lizzie," he said.

"You're… doing good," I said, still finding talking an enormous effort.

"Yeah. But my nurse is a tyrant. All she ever does is call me Daniel and tell me to sleep. They say I can hopefully get out of here soon."

"M-Miranda," I said. Gordo snapped to attention. Maybe he guessed what had happened. "Sh-she…" I couldn't say it. It was hard enough to talk as it was, and what I was planning to say didn't make it any easier. I couldn't say this, mentally or physically. "She's dead," I finally said. My voice cracked.

"Miranda?" he asked.

I wanted to nod, but I couldn't. So I said, "Yeah."

Gordo's head dropped. "They told me she didn't have a good chance, but I never thought…" He sighed and looked at me. "It just seems like we're indestructible, y'know? We're 17, so nothing can hurt us… or kill us."

I sniffed. "C'mere."

Gordo wheeled himself over to the side of my bed and slowly, gently hugged me as if we were both fragile and he didn't want to break either one of us. His tears fell on my neck and I wished I could cry with him, but I couldn't. It hurt too much.


	4. Home Again

A/N: I don't own the song "You Lift Me Up" by Rachel Lampa, she owns it or the record company does or whatever. And I also don't own Lizzie McGuire, as I forgot to mention. Oh, and all the stuff about Rachel Lampa and her family, past, ect. I made up. I really don't know much about her other than she's pretty. =)

And Kate, this is not a G/L fic. It isn't a romance. They hugged because they're friends, they hug. If Gordo would have died, Miranda would have hugged Lizzie. I decided who got killed by a coin toss. I repeat: this is NOT a G/L fic.

GORDO

"You need to sleep at least 12 hours a day," the nurse told me as she took off some of my bandages. "All right?"

I nodded. "OK."

"And you can't lift anything heavy, work out, or do anything strenuous for a while. You'll have a checkup at a doctor's office in 3 weeks and he'll be able to tell you when you can. But be sure not to lift heavy things especially, you risk permanent injury if you do."

"K."

The last bandage was removed from my body. I wasn't hooked up to any machines anymore. I was going home.

I didn't feel too happy, though. I thought I'd be glad to go home, but now a week and a half after I found out Miranda was dead, it seemed like nothing could make me happy.

She helped me sit up. "Your parents brought some clothes here. I'll leave you to get changed, OK, Daniel?"

"David."

"Sorry." She walked out of the room and shut the door.

It hurt a little to get out of bed, so I did so slowly. I walked over to the plastic bag holding my clothes and quickly changed. It felt good to wear real clothes after that dumb papery stuff. I hated that.

I sighed and looked into the mirror. I expected to see the old Gordo, but instead I was shocked at the person looking back at me. He had scars on his head. He looked beaten. That wasn't me… was it?

I looked at my left arm, the one that flew into the window. It wasn't bloody, but still had scars and scratches. Would they heal, or would they be there forever? Each scratch, each scar a constant reminder of this hospital and my friend that died in it.

I reluctantly grabbed the plastic bag and left the room. The nurse was talking to my parents, then said, "Oh, there he is."

My parents smiled and quickly walked up to me. My mom hugged me. "How do you feel?" she asked.

"Alive," I answered. I wanted to say I felt good, because physically I did, but I couldn't say that knowing that Miranda was dead.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, mom. I'm fine. But…" I struggled out of her arms. "Can I say goodbye to Lizzie?"

She looked at my dad and he nodded. "Take your time," he said.

I looked to the nurse. She also nodded and led me down the hallway into Lizzie's room.

"How's she been doing?" I asked.

"She'll live," she replied. "I don't know how long she's going to have to spend in a hospital bed, but she'll live."

I walked over to her bed. "Hey, Lizzie," I said. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Gordo," she said. "You're… standing."

"I'm leaving," I explained. "My parents are here and they're ready to take me home. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Don't leave me here alone," she said. "The nurse always calls me Elizabeth."

I smiled. "She calls me Daniel."

"I noticed."

I walked closer to her bed and hugged her again. "Do well, OK? I'll see you later."

"You will?"

"Of course. I don't know _when_ because the nurse didn't tell me, but she said you're gonna live."

Lizzie nodded. "Then I'll see you later, I guess."

"And I'll come to visit tomorrow."

Lizzie smiled mischievously. "Watch the heart monitor."

I blinked. What?

"Watch the heart monitor," she repeated. I did. Suddenly, it beeped long and hard and the line was flat.

"Lizzie?!" I demanded.

She tried to laugh, but it came out like a strange laugh/cough type thing. "I bend the cord. It shows a flat reading for awhile. I scared them a couple times."

I laughed for the first time in what felt like a year. "You should have showed me that sooner, I could have done it."

She smiled. "I guess your parents are waiting for you."

"I'll be here tomorrow, I promise. If I have to walk 20 miles, I'll be here."

"Thanks."

I nodded and left. Lizzie seemed to be doing fine. I was glad.

~*~

I sighed and laid down on my bed. I was home, finally. My desk, my dresser, my plane models. I was home.

I turned my stereo on and put it on radio. I didn't know what CD to put in, so this way I compromised. But the song that was on didn't fit my gloomy mood at all. I listened to it anyway.

Blasting out of the speakers, came a beautiful voice filled with optimism and hope.

Climbin' on a cloud,

Dancing on a daydream.

I don't have a doubt

Just how good this life can be.

You lift me up.

Runnin' in the rain,

Singin' in the sunshine.

Tellin' all the world

Why I'm so in love with life.

You lift me up.

You lift me up.

I'm touchin' the blue sky.

You lift me up.

I'm on top of the world.

You lift me up.

I'm getting closer to Heaven

In every little thing I love.

You lift me up.

Headin' for the stars,

Ridin' on a moonbeam.

Takin' me so far.

Farther than I've ever been.

You lift me up.

You lift me up.

I'm touchin' the blue sky.

You lift me up.

I'm on top of the world.

You lift me up.

I'm getting closer to Heaven

In every little thing I love.

You lift me up.

I'm in love.

All I ever want,

All I ever need is right here.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

Da da la, 'n' dee da, da da la uidu.

I'm touchin' the blue sky.

I'm on top of the world.

I'm getting closer to Heaven

In every little thing I love!

You lift me up.

(Oooooooooh, yeeeeeeah!)

You lift me up.

I'm on top of the world.

You lift me up.

I'm getting closer to Heaven

In every little thing I love.

Eventually, the "You lift me up"s faded out into the background, and somehow I felt worse than I had before. How could anything be happy when Miranda was gone? How could anything be good when she wasn't around to experience it?

_Climbin' on a cloud, dancing on a daydream. I don't have a doubt just how good this life can be._ Those words echoed in my head. _I don't have a doubt just how good this life can be._

How could she say that? How could she even _pretend_ that life could be good? That life could treat you well? Was this girl unaware of all of the death going on in the world? This wasn't about Miranda anymore… tons of people die every minute. Life is not good. Life is one big Shakespeare tragedy play.

I got on my computer and connected to the internet. What did they say her name was? I was going to look her up. I betted that she'd never experienced death in her life.

"Now we continue with the Rachel Lampa hour," the voice on the radio said. Rachel Lampa.

I went to google.com and typed her name in. Plenty of sites came up. I scanned them, and one caught my eye.

Rachel Lampa, the Girl who Lived a Nightmare

Tons of Christians have heard of Rachel Lampa, but most don't know anything about her horrible past. Her dad was killed in…

"Killed in what?" I asked. I clicked on the link. The website that came up was huge. I scanned the side. It had 7 photo galleries, biography, 3 polls, 5 quizzes…

Biography. Was that what I wanted?

I clicked it.

A/N: I would continue, but this chapter is already pretty long since I included the lyrics to that song, so the article is gonna be in the next chap. And please remember, it's made up.


	5. Prayer

A/N: I want to make it clear that I MADE THIS UP! Not true. None a' it. And I don't know much about how Jews pray, so that might be wrong. Sorry if you're Jewish. I do know a few things about what they believe, but I have no idea how they pray or who they pray to, ect. I apologize again to any Jewish people out there (including Adam Lamberg).

GORDO

Rachel Lampa, the Girl who Lived a Nightmare

Tons of Christians have heard of Rachel Lampa, but most don't know anything about her horrible past. Her dad went blind in '93 after a motorcycle accident, and then later her dad was killed in the World Trade Center. She had an older brother who was put in juvenile hall when he was 17 ('98) for drugs, and her mother is an alcoholic. Though coming from a dark history, Lampa continues to show steadfast love and devotion to God. Her big hit, Live for You, shows that even though she has much to be sad about, she still counts her blessings. 

****

"I live for You, I live for You. When I think of all Your love has done for me, I live for You. Never looking back to what life used to be. I live for You. And everything I ever thought was mine, give it all away to Heaven with my life."

This diva has a promising future, for her melodic voice has capabilities to sing both incredibly high and unusually low, especially for a girl. Her incredible beauty also shares apart in which…

I stopped reading. I didn't have to. I wasn't interested in her voice or her future; I just wanted to know about her rough past.

I suddenly felt guilty for thinking, "What does she know about life?" She'd experienced harder things than I would ever have to go through (hopefully). When my problems were placed next to hers, mine almost seemed happy. But yet, even though she'd had all of these horrible things, she still sang with all her heart "I don't have a doubt just how good this life can be."

I breathed deeply. Through all of it, she'd trusted in God, and He gave her the strength to deal with it. I realized that if He could make this girl sing He could at least bring up my hopes a little.

"God," I prayed, eyes closed. "You helped this girl with everything, now I'm asking You to help _me._ I know that with Your help, I can get through this. But _only_ with Your help. I need you, God."

A/N: that's about the most religious this story is gonna get, so if you don't have a religion or you're Buddhist or whatever, you can keep reading because the rest of the story's gonna be neutral. I promise.


	6. Fight

A/N: this takes place 2 months later in early August. Summer vacation's almost gone, and all Lizzie's done is lay in her bed. Poor girl! Anyway, she just got out of the hospital.

LIZZIE

I went into my room and called Gordo right away. It felt so good to walk again. I'd been lying down for 2 ½ months now, and finally I could walk. I quickly dialed his number. Briefly I wondered if I should call Miranda, too, but then remembered that I couldn't.

"Hello?"

"Gordo?" I asked.

"Hey, Lizzie. Are you still in the hospital?"

"No, I just got out."

"That's good. I'm sorry you had to miss the funeral."

I'd wanted to get in a wheelchair or something so I could go to Miranda's funeral last month, but they wouldn't let me. They said I needed to sleep 24/7. And they obviously couldn't put it off for me because it had to be soon after she died so the body wouldn't smell or decay.

"That's OK. Were you a pallbearer?"

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Fine."

For the first time in over 5 years, we didn't seem to have anything to say to each other. It was strange… this was Gordo, after all. Gordo! I could carry on a conversation with him for 3 hours if someone didn't stop us. But it seemed like so much effort without Miranda on the line to keep things moving.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Fine. You?"

"I'm all right."

Normally the answer to that question would be "I'm doing pretty good" but suddenly, it was changed to "Fine. I'm all right."

"Maybe you wanna get together?" he asked.

"Oh- I don't really feel like doing anything," I answered as I laid down on my bed.

"No, I mean at my house. We could just hang out and talk. Neither of us should be alone right now."

"My parents and Matt are home."

"I'm willing to bet that you aren't gonna talk to them, though."

I sighed. He was right. I loved my parents, but I didn't feel very comfortable talking to them about Miranda. Well, I didn't feel comfortable talking about her at all, but if I had to, I'd want it to be with Gordo.

"OK. I'll come over."

"See you then." He hung up.

I did the same. I put on my flip-flops and went downstairs. I started out the door.

"Where are you going?" mom asked.

"Gordo's."

"Do you want me to walk with you? You shouldn't be alone right now."

"Mom, it's a 2-minute walk. I'll be fine."

Reluctantly, she finally said, "If you're sure…"

I left.

~*~

I knocked on the door. Mr. Gordon answered.

"Lizzie," he said, surprised. "How are you doing?"

"I'm doing better," I answered. Every time someone asked me how I was, I was careful not to say anything too positive, afraid it might somehow offend Miranda. "Is Gordo home?"

"Yes, come on in."

I entered and shut the door behind me. I took my sandals off and walked up the stairs to Gordo's room. I knocked.

"C'min," came his voice from the other side. I did.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey."

I stared at his face. It was bruised and had cuts and scabs on it. I'd never seen him like that. "Gordo… your face…"

"You don't look too good yourself," he replied. He raised his left arm so I could see it clearly.

I gasped. All over his entire arm were small scrapes. It was red from the scabbed-over blood.

"When I tossed around in the back, I hit the window. My arm broke the glass."

"Does it hurt?"

He shook his head. "Not anymore. You can sit down if you want." I sat on a chair for his desk.

"So…" I tried to think of something to say. Nothing came to me.

Gordo sat on his bed. "Did you hear about Trey's party?" he asked. Trey was a guy in our class. Ethan and him were friends.

"No."

"He invited me this Saturday, but I don't think I'll go."

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm a walking scab. I don't think many girls'll wanna dance with me."

I smiled. "You're fine. I think that this would actually make _more_ girls like you. Pity is always good, wouldn't you say?"

He smiled, too. "I guess."

"I wonder why I wasn't invited…?"

"He probably didn't know you were out of the hospital."

"Maybe."

It bugged me a little, that Trey invited Gordo and not me. I mean, we weren't exactly friends, but I knew Ethan had mentioned me to him a few times, I'd seen him and said hi, and… well, if he invited Gordo, why not me?

"Lizzie?"

"What?"

Gordo's eyes looked sad. They weren't wet, but something in them just screamed "I'm sad." "Talk to me."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"I don't mean talk to me like "How's the weather" talk to me. I mean, really _talk_ to me. We could use a nice heart-to-heart conversation."

I blinked. "What do you want me to say?"

"I think you know what I want you to say."

I sighed. He wanted me to talk to him about Miranda. Instead of saying "I'm fine" he wanted me to actually tell him _exactly_ what I was feeling. "You first."

"Well, I…" He paused. "I miss her. A lot. Whenever I'm about to do something, I think, "I'll invite Lizzie and Miranda." And… I can't. This is gonna sound stupid, but I'm almost worried that it'll slip my mind completely and I'll actually call their house and ask for her. Then her mom'll break down crying, and…" He paused again. "But, it doesn't hurt so much anymore, somehow."

"What do you mean, it doesn't hurt?" I demanded. What was he saying? That he didn't miss our best friend?

"Don't get mad," he said. "Please, Lizzie. I'm just saying… well, it's been awhile, and the wound is healing. Like all these scars on my arm, it's scabbing over. It'll be gone soon."

_"GONE?"_ I cried. My voice was now raised and I was angry. Very angry. "How could you say that, Gordo? How? Miranda is dead! Dead!" I started to cry. "How could you think it's going to be OK?"

"Lizzie, that isn't what I meant. It's only that… well, I'm getting used to her not being here."

"You don't miss her?"

"Of course I do!" Gordo stood and his voice was raised now, too. "I loved her as much as you did! Do you know what I did this morning? I looked at pictures. Of her."

"You did _not_ love her like I did!" I replied, infuriated. "How dare you say that! We shared things together that we could never tell you!"

"Quit acting like a jerk! You're getting mad at me because I'm telling the truth?"

"Oh, now _I'm_ the jerk? You're the one who's so insensitive! We were best friends for so many years… and now that she's gone you just pick up where we left off!"

"Stop acting like you're the only one that misses her! She was my friend, too!"

I started crying again. This was horrible! Nothing was right. Miranda wasn't here… and now Gordo and I were fighting. What else could go wrong?

"If she was your friend, then how could you forget about her?" I asked finally, my voice lower now.

"I never said I forgot about her. I never will. But jeez, Lizzie, are we gonna be in mourning for the rest of our lives? There's so much more out there in the world. We can't let this get us down."

"So I'm supposed to be happy? Happy that she's gone?"

"Look, I realize that you don't believe what I believe, but listen to this: The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away."

I paused. "What?"

"You have so many things to be grateful for, and now that one thing is taken away you're so sad about it. Miranda was much more than a thing, I realize, but her absence doesn't take away all of the other things we have to be grateful for. I'm not being insensitive, I'm being grateful."

"Grateful that your God took her away?"

"As much as it may hurt _us,_ He had a right. After all, we have so much. Now something is gone, something is missing. But we still have everything else around us. Parents, friends…" When he spoke next, his voice was so soft I almost had to strain to hear him. "Each other."

I sniffed. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

We shared a hug. I had such a mix of feelings right then. Ashamed, sad, angry, bitter, and yet grateful. Grateful for Gordo.


	7. An Invitation/The Party

A/N: in answer to the anonymous reviewer who left no name, I know Gordo doesn't believe Jesus was the Savior, but he still believes in God (correct me if I'm wrong, I'm no Jewish scholar). 

GORDO

That Saturday afternoon (3 days after Lizzie and I fought) I called her. I wanted her to come to Trey's party with me. I didn't want to go alone, and I didn't want to stay home. But part of me was worried that Lizzie would get mad again for my moving on. Actually, I was a little mad at myself for doing so, but I knew that I had to, and the sooner I did, the happier I would be later on.

"Hello?" said someone on the other line.

"Matt? This is Gordo. Can I talk to Lizzie?"

"What's it to ya?"

I was able to hear Lizzie's faint voice. "Matt… is that Gordo? Give me the phone! Give it to me!" I smiled a little as I heard a little rustling and struggling, then heard Lizzie's voice. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," I said.

"I thought it would be."

"So… Trey wanted you to come to his party tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to." That wasn't the whole truth. I'd asked him if she could come and he said yes.

"He _wants_ me there?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"Well, yeah. But I wasn't sure if you wanted to, so I told him I'd call you."

"You know, I wouldn't mind getting a call from someone else for once, no offense."

"I know. What do you say?"

"What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "1:13."

"No! The party."

"Oh. 8:30."

"_8:30?_" she demanded. "A little late?"

"Well, I don't know when it's gonna end, prob'ly around 2 or so."

"I don't know if my parents will let me go to a late-night party on a Saturday night."

"What if I pick you up and bring you home?" The words shot out of my mouth before I thought about them. Now that I had the chance to look at them, I wondered if I was ready to get behind the wheel of a car.

"Um… I don't know if my parents are crazy about teenage drivers at the moment."

"Will you ask them?"

"Sure. Hang on." I waited for a minute, when her voice came back. "OK, that's cool. What time are you picking me up?"

"Um, around 8:20, I guess."

"OK. Bye, Gordo."

"Bye, Lizzie."

~*~

I took in a deep breath as I looked at the car. I got in and made sure to buckle my seatbelt this time. Adjusted mirrors, seat, and started it up. Then I drove to Lizzie's house.

I got there and she came out right away. She was wearing red leather pants and a spaghetti-strap black snake-pattern shirt with an open back.

"You look good," I said as she opened the door.

"Thanks. You, too."

"I look the same as I always do. I didn't do anything special."

"Well, then you always look good," she replied. "Look, I'm sorry about the other day."

"No, I am. I should have been more sensitive."

"And I shouldn't have been a jerk. You're right. One thing went wrong, but we still have a lot of things going for us. Miranda wouldn't want us to be torn apart because of her."

I nodded in agreement. "She'd think the whole thing was crazy and stupid. And I agree."

"So do I."

When we got to the party not many people were there yet. I checked the time and it was 8:25.

"Do you wanna go in?" I asked.

She nodded. I parked on the street and we walked into his house.

"Hey, guys," Trey greeted. "You both look like you've been dead for a couple days, but I'm glad you came."

I forced a smile, but I felt Lizzie tense at his mention of us being "dead."

"How sensitive of you," I said. He took it as a joke, but I'm not sure if I meant it as one.

"I have a total of about 5 guests, but the party should heat up soon. Supposedly a lot of people are coming." He took a glance around. "So, we got a movie downstairs, food in the kitchen, and music in the living room. Make yourselves at home."

"Thanks," I said. I escorted Lizzie into the kitchen.

"What a creep," Lizzie said. "Doesn't he know?"

I knew what she thought he was supposed to know. She was talking about Miranda. "I don't know," I said. "But he's still a nice guy. You're just a little defensive right now."

Lizzie paused. "OK, so maybe I am."

"You want food?"

"Not really."

"Let's see what movie's playing. It probably just started."

"I don't know if I want-"

I grabbed her arm and started dragging her away. "You've got to do something, now let's go." We went downstairs where they were watching Billy Madison.

"Gordon!" Ethan said. "Have a seat. This movie's a classic."

I shrugged. "OK." I sat next to him on the couch, and Lizzie sat next to me.

"Did you guys come together?" he asked.

Technically, we did come together, but I knew what he meant. Was this a date for us.

"Um… no, not really," I answered. "We're just hanging out."

"That's cool."

"Quiet in front!" said a girl sitting behind Ethan on the couch's backrest.

"Hey!" Ethan replied, turning to face her. "Do you see us here? We're talking."

"Talk upstairs!"

Ethan shook his head and turned back to me. "Party just started and she's drunk already," he whispered to me. Was he serious? Was there beer here… and was she drinking it that fast?

But he chuckled and turned back to the movie. I ignored his remark and told myself he was just joking. Still, my insides sensed trouble at this party.


	8. *I want to go, Gordo*

LIZZIE

Around 10:00 I started to get uneasy. People were starting to fist-fight. I could smell beer on most people's breaths. Girls and guys started seeking private places, and I worried that some drunk guy was going to put his hands on me. I treated everyone as if they were infected with a very contagious, very deadly virus and kept my distance.

I wandered through the halls of Trey's house. It was huge. When Gordo and I had first walked in, I didn't realize how big it was until I'd actually started to wander. I wondered what his parents did for a living to be able to buy a house so big that guests got lost in it. I was trying to find Gordo to ask him if we could leave, but I couldn't find my way back downstairs.

Finally, I found the stairs. I went downstairs to where the movies were playing. Since it was dark, I half-expected to find people making out, but to my relief, everyone was watching attentively (save a couple people in back).

I walked over to Gordo and tapped him on the shoulder. "Can we talk?" I whispered, fearing what would happen if I interrupted the movie with all of these drunk people.

He nodded and we went upstairs. "What's up?"

"I want to go," I said instantly.

"You do? You aren't having fun?"

"No. I'm totally paranoid. Everyone here is, well… strange."

"Watch a movie with us, then."

"What are you watching?"

"Billy Madison just ended, we're gonna put in something else."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. You seem tense."

"OK, truth be told, I'm scared."

Gordo smirked. "Scared? Of what?"

"These people. Most of them are drunk."

"They aren't-" He paused to look around. People were stumbling, fighting, and drinking. That was about it. "OK. But we haven't had any beer downstairs, so-"

"I don't care. I want to go, Gordo. Please?"

"Look, I agree that this place is getting bad, but no one's had anything downstairs, I promise. We can just hang out there until these people sober up and we all go home."

I sighed. "But if someone calls the cops and we get caught here, we're dead. It doesn't matter if we drank or not, they'll call our parents and tell them we were at a party with beer. And guess what happens next."

Gordo nodded. "OK, I see your point. That's fine, we can leave."

"Thank you so much."

We left the house and got into the car. I felt safe in it, away from all of the people. They scared me, and now it was just me and Gordo. Just me and my friend.

"Thanks again," I said as I shut my door. "I just didn't feel comfortable there."

"No problem. I smelled a little bit of trouble there, myself."

~*~

The next morning I woke up to a knock on my door.

"Lizzie?" my mom asked.

"Yeah?" I half-asked, half-groaned. "Come in."

She opened the door and entered. "Your father and I are going down to Gordons' house to meet with them and Sanchezes. Will you be all right home with Matt?"

"Why are you going to meet with them?" I asked. "Are you having breakfast with them or something?"

"No, they're talking about suing Jared O' Brien, the drunk driver who hit you."

"We're gonna sue him?" I asked, surprised.

"No, no, Sanchezes were just wondering about it and they called us. We're just going over to Gordons' discuss it."

Personally, I was against the idea. I was mad at the guy, but it seemed a bit silly to me to sue him. The only thing I'd lost in the crash was Miranda, and no amount of money could ever bring her back.

"Well… OK. When will you be back?"

"I don't know. We might eat lunch with them afterwards, so it may be around 1 before we get home. Matt promised he'd be good."

"He did?" I demanded. Since when did Matt promise he'd be good? And for _me?_

"Yes. We talked to him and told him that you still aren't fully recovered and can't be running around the house, and you can't be stressed so he'd have to be good. He told us he would, but… well, anyway, have fun."

"All right. Bye, mom."

She came up to my bed and kissed me on the forehead. "Bye, sweetheart." She walked out of my room and seconds later I heard the front door shut.

I laid in bed for about 10 minutes when the phone rang. "Matt!" I called. "Get that!" The ringing stopped, and seconds later he came into my room with the cordless phone in his hand.

"It has something to do with the crash," he said quietly so that the person on the other line couldn't hear it as he handed me the phone.

I inwardly groaned. I really didn't want any sympathy calls.

"Hello?" I asked as I grabbed the phone.

"Is this Lizzie McGuire?" the voice on the other line asked.

"Yes."

"Hello, Ms. McGuire, I'm Angela Williams with Ford Motors. I was wondering if I'd be able to convince you to do an interview with one of our specialists to promote side airbags."

What? What did that have to do with the crash?

"Uh…"

"You would be able to help save lives much like Miranda Sanchez. If there would have been side airbags in the car, her head would have hit a pillow-like substance instead, and possibly wouldn't have even been unconscious, much less have… well-"

"I don't think so."

"Be sure to think about this. You would be able to save _lives._ You must realize this isn't something for the company, it's something for the public. For ordinary people who might happen to be in a collision."

It sounded an awful lot like a commercial to me. And all commercials did was advertise. I didn't want Miranda's death to be no more than an advertisement.

"No thank you, I'm not interested," I said in my best talking-to-people-who-never-give-up voice.

"What if a Mr. David Gordon agreed?"

Gordo had said he'd do it?

"Have you called him?"

"No, but it is on my to do list."

"I'll have to talk to him about it, thanks."

"Then you can call me back with your decision. Let me give you my number."

Once again I inwardly groaned as I got out of bed. I quickly searched my desk for a pen and some paper. "OK," I said.

She gave me her home and work phone number, the hours that she'd be at each, and repeated her name: Angela Williams.

I hung up and looked at the time. It was 10:45. I'd slept for 12 ½ hours last night!

I wondered if I should call Gordo about the offer. I decided to. I dialed his number and his mom picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Lizzie. Can I talk to Gordo?"

"Of course." There was a pause, then Gordo's voice.

"Hey, Lizzie."

"Hi. Did you get a call from Ford?"

"Ford?" he asked, confused. "Um… no."

"Well, you're gonna get one. I just got called and the lady said she was going to call you, too."

"About what?"

"They want to promote side-airbags. She said if Miranda had a side-airbag, she wouldn't have died. She wants to interview us."

"Sounds like a publicity stunt."

"That's what I thought, too."

"What did you say?"

"I said I'd talk to you. What do you say?"

"I say no."

"Good."

"Um, Lizzie? I think I'm gonna go. I kind of wanted to hear the 'rents talk about that drunk driver guy."

"OK. Just tell me something quick, do you think we should sue him? To me, it seems pointless. We'll never get Miranda back."

"I think he owes us at least the hospital bills. Well, talk to you later."

"Bye."


	9. Decision

A/N: OK, I made up names for Gordo and Miranda's parents since I don't know what they are. If you know them you can tell me in a review and I'll change 'em. Thanks!

GORDO

"I think the man owes us something," my dad said in the living room talking to Lizzie's parents and Mr. and Mrs. Sanchez. He was referring to Jared O'Brien.

"Yes, he does," mom said. "I think we all agree that he does. But yet, we'll never get back everything that he took away. It almost wouldn't make sense to even try."

"I would like to completely set aside this incident as soon as possible," Mrs. Sanchez said. "We'll never be able to forget about it, of course, but I don't think we should drag it out, either."

"Just because he can't pay back _everything,"_ Mr. McGuire said. "That doesn't mean that he shouldn't try. I say we press for the money."

"Maybe this is pointless," my mom said. I could tell that she thought we shouldn't sue, yet she didn't want to disagree with anyone. "Maybe if we called him he would be glad to pay us quietly without a courtroom."

"That's always an option," Mr. Sanchez agreed. "But we need to decide what we want first, so that if he disagrees we can take him to court. If we decide to."

I was tempted to call him on my own. I really wanted this issue resolved, but it wouldn't be for awhile. I knew that. Especially if we decided to sue, because that would drag it on even longer. I hoped that he'd just hand over the money "quietly without a courtroom," but yet I doubted he would.

Mrs. Sanchez shook her head. "I don't want this to get too much publicity."

"We won't do anything that you aren't comfortable with," Mrs. McGuire said quickly. "Your opinion and your husband's should count the most."

They were narrowly escaping mention of Miranda's death. They were implying it, but not actually coming out and saying it. I knew what that was like… I'd done it myself.

At the moment I was in the kitchen pretending to look for something to eat just to listen to them talk. I didn't know what they'd think if I asked to listen in on it, so instead I just looked for the Ritz crackers.

There was a pause, when Mrs. McGuire said "Peter? What do you say?"

Mr. Sanchez thought. "I don't know what I say. I just think that whatever we do, it has to be well thought out." There were nods and sounds of agreement at that. "And what do you think, Jo?"

"I think we should leave things as they are. Leave "well enough" alone."

"He hurt us all," dad said. Then, with a glance to Sanchezs, added "Some of us more than others. But the money will make some of it go away. It won't erase the pain, it won't erase the nightmare from the kids, but it _will_ aid in the healing process, I think."

"How?" mom asked.

"Well, the only way he has hurt you and I _directly_ is by the hospital bill. If he pays that, then it goes away. Not for everyone, but for us at least."

"It seems a little materialistic to be worrying about money at a time like this, don't you think?" mom asked.

"Not at all. If we take what he owes us, it's fair. Nothing more, nothing less."

_Go dad,_ I thought. That was how I felt. And Lizzie had called me insensitive for thinking about that when Miranda was gone and I had no answer because I couldn't put my feelings into words. This was how I felt.

"David, honey?" mom asked. "Do you need something? You've been in the kitchen awhile."

Busted.

I froze. "Um… no. I was just… looking for a snack," I answered.

"There are some fruit snacks in there somewhere."

"Thanks."

My mom turned back to the rest of the parents. "Would anyone like something to drink?"

"I'll have some water," Mrs. McGuire said. Mom took orders from the rest and came into the kitchen with me. She looked at me.

"Why don't you meet Lizzie at the Digital Bean? I think she's home alone."

"Nah, Matt's probably with her."

"Then call some other friends and go somewhere with them."

I smiled. I knew what she was doing, and she knew what I was doing. And she knew that I knew what she was doing. "But-"

"You'll be informed once we're done talking. Now go on."

"Mom, I'm not a kid."

"David…" she said using her warning voice.

I sighed and grabbed the phone. "K, I'll be in my room."

"With the door closed," she added.

I shut my door and planned to call Lizzie. That's when I realized that I really needed a life. My best friend was a girl. I'd been hanging out with girls since 5th grade. What I needed was some good guy friends.

Oh, well. I dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lizzie. Do you wanna hang out today?"

"I'm watching Matt till our parents get home. I thought you were gonna talk with them."

"No, I was gonna eavesdrop. And I got caught."

Lizzie chuckled. "Um… you could probably come over here if you wanted."

"OK. I'll be over in a sec."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up and went back into the living room. My mom looked at me. "What is it?"

"Um, I called Lizzie. I was wondering if I could go over to their house." I also looked at McGuires for their permission.

Mrs. McGuire nodded. "That's fine with me."

"Go on," mom said. "But don't leave the house, and keep Matt some company, too."

"Yeah, sure." I walked out.

I got to Lizzie's house soon after that. I knocked on her door and Matt answered.

"Hey," he said. "C'min. Lizzie said you were coming."

"Where is she?" I asked as I entered the house.

"Her room. I think she's changing."

"Oh."

"You can sit down. I'll go get her." He walked up the stairs.

I blinked. Matt seemed different somehow. _He's just maturing,_ I told myself. He must have been 13 or 14 by now. He was growing up.

I sat down on the couch for a minute, then Lizzie came down. "Hey, Gordo. Tell me about the conversation."

"What?"

She sat down next to me. "Our parents' conversation at your house. What have they said so far?"

"The girls are basically against it, and the guys are mostly for it. I don't know how it's gonna turn out."

"What did my parents say?"

"Basically just that. Your dad wants to sue, your mom doesn't. Your dad said that he should try to pay us back, no matter if it would really make a difference or not. You mom wants to leave "well enough" alone."

Lizzie nodded. "I think talking about Miranda's death in front of a court would be hard on Sanchezes. I think we should just leave it, instead of pouring lemon juice on the paper cut."

"And let this guy get away with it?"

"But he's _not_ getting away with it. He has to pay a fine or whatever… depending on how drunk he was, the government is punishing him their way. Just because he isn't paying us back doesn't mean he isn't paying."

I shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll see what they decided later."

A/N: I don't know what should happen myself, so please offer any opinions you may have about them suing the driver. Thanks!


	10. Failure

A/N: I have a confession to make. Up until now, all of the chapters have been pre-written. I actually haven't written this story in awhile. But I couldn't decide what was going to happen so I waited till the last chapter was posted to see what people said. Well, only one person really casted his/her vote, so I'm just gonna wing it. Don't expect such fast updates from now on, though. I'm making this up as I go along.

LIZZIE

Gordo, Matt, and I all jumped when the door opened. Not because we were surprised or startled, but because we were anxious. We rushed to the front to greet my parents.

"Hey," I said. "What'd you decide?"

My mom sighed. "Well, we're going to call him and ask for some money. But if after a little talking we can't get it out of him, we decided not to sue."

"Why not?" Gordo demanded.

"Different reasons," mom replied. "The main one being Sanchezs didn't feel comfortable with the idea. Would you like a ride home?"

"I drove, but thanks." Gordo turned to me. "I'll see you later, OK? We can maybe get together before school starts."

I winced. "Don't say that. You make it sound like it's only a week away or something."

"It almost is. Let's face it: we don't get a summer this year." He smiled. "It's cool, though. I mean… it wasn't the best summer, but at least this didn't happen in the middle of the school year. Can you imagine the make-up work?" I smiled back. "Well, see ya." He left.

"Who's calling him?" I asked.

"Gordons."

"Why them? Why aren't _we_ calling? Or Sanchezs?"

"Because Sanchezs didn't want to and Mr. Gordon offered."

"When are they calling?"

Mom sighed. "I don't know, Lizzie, whenever they find time, I suppose."

I knew that she was getting frustrated with my questions by her tone, but I didn't know exactly why. She knew that I was going to want to know what they decided, and she told me that she'd tell me everything. Maybe something happened while they were there.

Anyway, I couldn't press her anymore about this. I'd ask her later when she was in a better mood.

"OK. Well, maybe I'll go to the mall or something. I need to get out."

"Oh-" Dad pulled out his wallet. "Is 20 enough?"

"It's OK," I said. "I'll window shop or something. I don't need money. What should I take?"

He handed me the keys to our Taurus. "Be back for supper."

I nodded. "Thanks. Love you, bye!"

I walked into the driveway and was about to get in the car when I heard my name called. I turned and across the street was Madison Avior.

"Hi!" I called back.

She smiled and walked across the street to me. Madison and her family had just moved here last year, 2 years after we had. She was nice, but we didn't really hang out much.

"How are you?" she asked me. Her long strawberry-blond hair blew with the light breeze.

"How am I supposed to be?" I answered. "You heard about the crash, right?"

"Are you kidding? It's pretty big. It was on the news and everything. And not just "there was a crash, expect delays," but like a real actual _section_ on your crash. The guy that hit you was interviewed."

"Really?" I asked, purely interested. I hadn't known that.

She nodded. "Yeah. My mom taped it. You might wanna borrow it sometime. Actually…" She paused. "Do you have a minute? We could watch it now, unless you were going to somewhere you can be late to." She sent me a small smile.

I returned it. "No, I have a minute."

"Cool." We headed back over to her house. I'd been in it before the Aviors had moved there, but not since. Madison had been adopted by a newly wed couple who were 24 and had a thing for bright colors, so I wondered what they could have done to the inside of the house. Her mom was an interior decorator, so it was probably pretty cool.

I thought it would be kinda weird having parents who were only 8 years older than I was. Madison was 16… how strange! Her dad had to have an operation, so now he couldn't have kids. They wanted to adopt, and "fell in love" with Madison.

I was right, the house was… bright. When I walked in, hot orange walls shocked my eyes. It was almost brighter than looking at the sun!

"Wow," I said without thinking as I took off my sandals. She looked at me.

"What?"

"Um… the walls. They're… bright."

She smiled. "Aren't they sweet? I love this house. And it was so much fun to paint. C'mon." She led me downstairs, where the colors were a little duller, but no less drastic. It was a deep blue. Not a dark blue, in fact it was still a little bright, but just deep. Really really blue.

"What a cool color," I said. I didn't add that I didn't exactly like it for a wall color.

"I wanted my room this color, but my mom didn't want 2 rooms to be the same color," she told me as she put a tape into the VCR.

_Madison's parents are definitely one of a kind,_ I thought. At my house, each room is white. If you didn't like it, too bad. Each room is white, anyway.

She grabbed the remote and sat down next to me on the bright yellow leather couch and pressed play.

The interview wasn't as interesting as I thought it would be. Jared looked about 22, 23, and he had been an honor student in high school, and worked hard to maintain his 4.0. He said that that day was his first time drinking, and he and his friends went overboard. And he promised never to do it again.

He sounded genuinely sorry. He looked genuinely sorry. And something inside me told me that he _was_ genuinely sorry. So for a small, tiny split second, I forgave him. But then I remembered that his being sorry didn't bring Miranda back. It didn't matter if he would do this again or not. Miranda was still gone.

I was bitter all over again. How _dare_ he kill her! This was all his fault! If he was stupid enough to get drunk, he shouldn't have been stupid enough to get in a car when he was! What gave him the right to take my friend's life? What gave him the right to cause me and Gordo and Sanchezs all this pain? What?

"Thanks, Madison," I said when I found my voice. "I appreciate it. I have to go now." I stood and started up the stairs.

"Do you wanna hang out sometime?" she asked, following me. " 'Cause, if you ever need a girlfriend to hang out with, I'm here."

_Miranda used to be the girlfriend I hung out with,_ I thought. _Used to be, but not anymore._

"Thanks," I said as I slipped on my sandals. "Gordo is practically my girlfriend, but if I _do_ need some real girl time, I know where you live." I flashed her a hard, forced smile as I left. I rushed into my house and ignored the confused looks on my parent's faces and went up to my room. I slammed the door and laid on my bed. I cried forever.

First I cried for Miranda, that I'd never see her again. Then I cried for myself, pitying myself that I had to go through this. Then I cried for Jared, and how his future was messed up now. Then I cried for myself once again, because I was just beginning to think I was over Miranda's death, beginning to think that it was in the past, and now I was in tears yet again.

I failed both myself and her.


	11. Dead Best Friend

LIZZIE

"Lizzie, honey, it's for you!" mom called to my room.

I was ready to take the darn phone of the hook. I couldn't count how many sympathy calls I'd gotten since the crash. Some were people I didn't even know! I was thinking "how do _you_ know about the crash you moron?" but I always did my best to be polite. Recently they had been slowing down, what with school starting soon and all. The crash had been a few months ago. But I still knew there were more calls to come, however few they may be.

I picked up the phone in my room. "Hello?" I asked. I heard mom hang up.

"Lizzie, I'm glad you're home. This is Mrs. Sanchez, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to the house and pick up a few of Miranda's things." Her voice was softer when she spoke next. "You know, to remember her by."

I nodded even though she couldn't see it. "I'd like that. Thank you."

"Oh, it's our pleasure. We'd rather her valuables go to you and Gordo than be sold at a yard sale for 50 cents."

"I'll be right over."

"Great. Goodbye."

"Bye."

_Mrs. Sanchez sounds like she's doing better,_ I noted as I hung up. I was glad. It must be so hard for her and her husband. I felt a little guilty for pitying myself when they were probably going through so much more than me. They were, after all, her family.

But then, in many ways I felt like I was her family, too. Like her sister or something. We'd known each other for a long time, and I always felt like I "loved" her in a friendly, even family-like way.

I went downstairs and grabbed the car keys off the counter.

"And where are you going?" mom asked.

"Sanchezs invited me over," I answered. I didn't really feel like mentioning Miranda.

"All right."

"And Gordo'll be there. I think we may do something afterwards."

"Like what?"

I shrugged. "Eat or something. I don't know when I'll be home."

"OK. Have fun."

Did she mean it? Did she want me to have fun in my dead best friend's room, talking to my dead best friend's parents, claiming my dead best friend's stuff?

"Sure."

~*~

When I got to the house, Gordo's blue Taurus was already there. I walked up to the house. Mr. Sanchez answered the door and told me that Mrs. Sanchez and Gordo were in Miranda's room. I went in there and the 2 were standing in the middle talking.

"Hey, Lizzie," Gordo said.

"Hey," I replied.

"Take everything you want," Mrs. Sanchez told us. "We wish we didn't have to sell any of this, but we just simply can't keep it all. Most of what you don't take will be sold. We already went through it."

"Thanks a lot," Gordo said. "This was really thoughtful of you."

She smiled. "Anytime." Then she left the room.

"You'll probably want more of this stuff than I do," he said to me. "You'll have more use for it, I mean. Being a girl."

I walked over to her dresser. It didn't look like her parents had gone through it. Everything was where it always had been.

A scrunchie, a couple headbands, and a picture frame were on it. The picture was us 3 in NYC. I remembered that trip… our parents had let us go together for our sweet 16. Of course, a couple parents came along, too.

Mirada was wearing a shirt that I bought her at a store there and her favorite pants. Gordo was giving her bunny ears and my hand was standing still on the picture, intending to swat his hand down for the _real_ picture.

I picked up the frame and showed it to Gordo. "This is a cute picture," I said.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I remember that. You should take it."

I put it in his hand. "No, you should. You said yourself that I'd probably find more I wanted than you. So you should take everything that isn't overly female."

He smiled. "OK. But you should take that shirt you bought her."

"I will if we run into it. But I don't wanna dig around her clotheslet and drawers looking for it." There was something uncomforting about me tearing through Miranda's stuff that I didn't like.

Gordo looked like he didn't understand why, but finally he said, "Fair enough," and turned to look around himself.

I turned to her bookshelf. She didn't have many books on it, though. She used it as more of a knick-knack shelf. Each separate shelf had it's own color. She had blue, red, yellow, and then one shelf with knick-knacks and suvounirs from her trip to France. She'd gone with the French class at school. I didn't take French, so the stuff wasn't of much sentimental value to me, but I finally decided to take the Teddy Bear that she got at Hard Rock Café.

"Ah," Gordo said, sounding pleased. "CDs. She's gotta have some good music." I smiled as he leafed through them.

"Did you go to France with her?" I asked. Gordo was almost the only guy in French that year.

"What?"

"For school. Did you go to France with Miranda?"

He didn't look up from the CDs as he spoke. "We were on the same flight, but once we got there we were split into 2 groups. I wasn't in her group. Why?"

"She has a French shelf."

He turned and looked at me. "A what?"

I pointed to the bookshelf. "A shelf with things from France."

He walked over to it and gave a small sort of chuckle when he saw something that caught his eye. He then picked up a deck of cards and a tiny, shot-glass-sized mug with the Eiffle Tower on it. The cards looked like regular casino cards, only they had a few French words on them.

"She played Claire for this," he told me, showing me the cards and the mug. "I couldn't believe it… she didn't know how to play poker. We met a dealer from Vegas and he taught her and gave her some tips."

I smiled. "You'll want them, then."

He held them both out to me. "Pick one."

I sighed and took the mug. I normally would have refused, but I've learned that Gordo can be very stubborn, and that he would make me pick first no matter how long he had to stand there.

"Were you there for the game?" I asked.

He nodded. "They played on the plane on the way back."

"Why did I take German?" I muttered.

Gordo smiled. "You look more like a French girl. Why _did_ you take German?"

Then Mrs. Sanchez came in with 2 plastic bags. "Oh, good, you're taking stuff," she said. "I was worried that you 2 would be too shy and only take a thing or 2." She gave us each a bag. "If you need more bags, let me know."

"No way will I need another one," Gordo replied. "I doubt I'll fill this one alone."

I nodded. "Me, too."

"Well, the offer's always open," she said. "Don't hesitate." Then she left again.

"Why is she leaving us alone in here?" Gordo asked me, his voice a little hushed.

I shrugged. "So that it can be just us 3 again… in a way."

We locked eyes for a minute, then I suddenly felt sadder than I'd felt in a long time. Gordo was the one who broke it. He turned back to the CDs.

I glanced around her room. "I wonder where her violin is."

"Parents probably took it," came the quick, casual answer.

"Yeah, I guess." Then I finally asked a question that had been on my mind for awhile. "Gordo… did your parents call Jared yet?"

"Oh – yeah."

"What'd he say?"

"He's going to pay for the car. He can't afford everything like the hospital bills and such, since he's trying to pay for college."

"Maybe he should try to pay for them anyway."

Gordo looked at me, surprised. "I thought you said we shouldn't sue."

"Did you know he was on the news?"

Gordo blinked. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Answer the question."

"No… I hadn't heard that."

"I can't figure it out. After I saw it, I think I should be more sympathetic to his situation, but… now I just hate him more. Because he's a murderer, and he's getting away with it. He killed her."

"Lizzie, what did he say?"

I took a deep breath. I was getting hot. I could feel my face getting redder, I was on the verge of sweating, and I knew tears were going to come to my eyes soon. "He was an honor student in high school. He's really smart, he got a good scholarship and everything. It was his first time drinking at a party, and he said he got carried away. But… that doesn't excuse it, does it?"

"I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

I sighed. "Neither do I. Forget it."

He turned back to the CDs once again. "Superchick," he said.

"What?"

"She has Superchick. I was going to buy this." He put the CD in his bag. "How are you doing?"

I was surprised at the sudden change of subject. "Um… the last time we had an open conversation we practically strangled each other. Maybe we shouldn't-"

"No, I mean with stuff. You almost done?"

I felt incredibly stupid.

"Oh – stuff. I think I wanna look around a little more."

He shrugged. "OK."

"You don't have to wait for me," I said.

"But I want to. Maybe we can hang out afterwards."

"Oh, OK."


	12. Being Honest

GORDO

Lizzie and I ended up walking to the park after we were done at Sanchez's. We both felt like walking, so we put our bags in our cars and told Sanchezs that we'd be back later to pick them up. On our way walking, I finally voiced what had been on my mind for a long time now.

"Um, there's been something kinda bugging me," I said when we were about halfway to the park.

"What is it?"

"Well, you remember Trey's party, right?"

"Of course I do. It wasn't _that_ long ago."

"Well… do you remember our fight right before it?"

"Um, yeah…"

"Do you remember saying that you and Miranda had secrets from me?"

Her face instantly twisted into a face of regret. She looked at me sadly, maybe wishing she could take it back.

"I didn't mean that," she said softly. "I just… I only said that we said things to each other that you – a guy – might not understand."

I understood that, but I wasn't sure if I believed it. It always seemed like they told me everything, and I didn't like the idea that they didn't. "Is that true? Because, maybe I'm just being a sissy, but I was always under the impression that us three were always 100% honest with each other, be it embarrassing or not."

"You were under the right impression," she admitted, looking at the ground. "I only said that because… well, maybe I was being selfish trying to convince myself that I was the only one that loved her."

I had a suspicion that she was only saying that to make me feel better. "Are you being honest? Because now that she's gone, I'd really like to know the truth."

"Yes, I'm being honest. And you should've known that before I had to tell you. You heard _all_ _about_ our girlie issues… Ethan Craft, my whole bra thing…"

"Miranda's first period," I added, making a face. I remembered that whole episode. It hadn't been pretty. "Y'know, maybe you _should've_ kept secrets from me. I think I got a little too much information sometimes."

Lizzie laughed. "Yeah, maybe."

The mood lifted as we reached the park. Ever seen Homeward Bound II? The setting was kinda like that when Chance and Delilah went to their park and it started raining and he stole the frisby and everything. There was a little pond, and a bridge nearby. It was a very romantic place, but I didn't really realize that until we were there. Then I wondered if things were about to totally change with Lizzie and me. Because the thing was, I knew that she liked me as more than a friend. I used to, too. But since the crash, she's been more of a friend to me than anything else.

"Gordo… I-"

I wanted to stop her from telling me that she loved me, if that was even what she was going to say. I had to stop it somehow. "I have to get home," I said quickly.

Lizzie blinked. "What?"

"I have to get home. I told my parents I wouldn't be gone long."

"Oh." Her face fell and I felt guilty for lying.

"But… do you wanna come over? You could have supper at my place if you want." She wouldn't dare tell me she loved me in front of my parents.

"Um… sure."

"Cool."

I inwardly sighed of relief. I couldn't let Lizzie tell me what she was thinking no matter what. Because if she did, I would have to lie to her or break her heart.

After supper that night she told me that she wanted to meet me at Digital Bean the next day for lunch. I told her I'd see her there, inwardly reluctant. This wasn't going to be good.

A/N: one more chapter left! I'm sorry for the sudden change… how it's so focused on Miranda and then BOOM! LIZZIE LOVES GORDO! but I have the last chapter written and I had to tie it in with this chapter, or else make this story really long. And I can't make it really long because I'm running out of fuel, and if I tried to make it long I'd get a major block in the middle. So I'm sorry, but this has to end. HOWEVER, if you would like to, you can email me (ria_gurl@cheerful.com) and you can make it longer and I'll post the chaps and give you full credit. Or we can make it a "new story" and inform everyone that it's a continuation of this, or… whatever. Just email me if you're interested, we can work it out. Peace out!


	13. The Hardest Thing

A/N: this is the last chapter, and my friend cried when she read it. I hope it really _is_ as moving as she told me. Stuff in bold italics are words from the song "The Hardest Thing" by 98 degrees. This is at the Digital Bean the next day.

GORDO

**__**

We both know that I shouldn't be here,

This is wrong.

I was able to tell that Lizzie was tense. Or maybe nervous is the better word. I couldn't exactly tell which one. I didn't know _exactly_ why, but I had a feeling that deep down, she wanted to tell me. I just prayed that she wouldn't say it.

**__**

And, baby, it's killing me, it's killing you.

Both of us trying to be strong.

She bit her lip and gave me an unsure smile as I walked up to her, but I was able to tell that her smile was forced. I've known her for over 10 years, I know her expressions and whether or not they're genuine.

"Have a seat," she told me, her voice a little shaky. I sat on the chair across from her and tried to act casual, like I didn't know what she was planning to do.

"What's up?" I asked, hoping to fool her by my tone. Trying to make her think I didn't sense the awkward mood.

**__**

I've made up my mind.

There is no turning back.

"Listen, I… I have to say this before I just flat-out die," she began.

_Please don't say it,_ I silently begged. _Please don't._

"I… I think I love you," she blurted.

I couldn't breathe for a moment. I looked away hoping she couldn't read my thoughts with a look into my eyes. This was horrible. Worse than horrible, actually. Much as I wanted to, I didn't love her back. I mean, she was more of a sister to me than anything else. But this…

"Gordo?"

I looked up at her. "Yeah?"

Her eyes were damp. "Say something. Please."

**__**

It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do.

To look you in the eye and tell you I don't love you.

"You-" my voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Man, Lizzie, you don't mean that."

"Yeah I do. I've been thinking about it ever since the crash, and now I'm more sure than ever."

I bit my lip. _Don't cry,_ I told myself. _Be a man. _But it was too hard for me to be a man when I had to break my best friend's heart.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say.

"You… don't feel the same," she said quietly, surprised. "But… how? I was so sure…"

"Believe me, Lizzie, I've never wanted to love you more than I do right now, but I just… I can't feel anything more than friendship for you."

**__**

It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to lie.

To show no emotion when you start to cry.

A few tears fell from her face. "You're serious, aren't you?" Her broken voice made me want to cry with her.

"Would I joke about this?" I returned. She started sobbing and I tried a more gentile approach. "Look, I was feeling a little more for you recently, but since the crash… it's been hard for me to see you as anything more than a really good friend."

"But Gordo…" She continued to cry for a minute, then resumed speaking. "I love you."

**__**

We're not meant to be.

It's the hardest thing I'll ever have to do.

To turn around and walk away

Pretending I don't love you.

"You shouldn't have said that to me," I said, desperately trying not to cry.

"I can't help it," she replied. "I… I had to tell you. It's been eating me alive. You don't understand…"

I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. "No, I don't. But if you want to talk, I'm always here."

She pulled her hand away quickly, like I had burned her. The action shouldn't have stung me as much as it did. "I've made enough of an idiot out of myself already," she answered bitterly. "You tell me you don't love me, then you grab my hand and pretend like everything's OK?"

"Everything's _not_ OK," I replied. "I know that. But… I'm just hoping that someday it will be. You don't know how hard this is for me."

"You? You're the one doing all the harm."

Maybe if I were a normal guy under a normal circumstance I would have taken that as an insult and gotten mad, but I felt so bad for Lizzie at the time.

"I'm only trying to tell you the truth," I said softly. "But I really am sorry. I _want_ to love you, but I can't control my emotions like that."

Lizzie stood. "I have to go," she said. "I mean… I'm leaving. Maybe someday we can be friends again, but this… this'll take me a little while." She sniffed. "But don't call me, OK? I'll call you when I'm ready to talk."

I nodded. "OK."

"Promise not to call me? Promise me, Gordo."

"I promise."

**__**

I've got to be cruel to be kind.

She bit her lip and ran out. I felt so guilty for causing her pain, but there was nothing more I could do about it anymore. I could have told her I loved her back, and then we could date and marry and have children, but maybe her heartbreak was better. Because the other option was to live a lie.

All the love I would give her would be fake, and Lizzie deserved so much better than that. She deserved _real_ love.

**__**

Maybe another time, another day.

As much as I want to, I can't stay.

I've made up my mind.

There is no turning back.

She never called me after that. I saw her in the halls at school once school started every once in awhile, though. I said hi to her the first few times, but she just silently stared at me, then walked away silently. After that, I didn't say anything else to her.

A year later when I was in college I made a stunning discovery. I truly loved her to. I suppose love works at different speeds for different people. She realized her love for me the day Miranda died, and I didn't realize that I loved her back until it was too late.

Graduation day was the last time I saw her, and that night at the Digital Bean was the last time she spoke to me.

**__**

All my love I'll be sending,

And you will never know,

'Cause there can be no happy ending.

A/N: Well???? Whatdja think?!?! Please tell me! And keep checking back, because someone is going to be continuing this fic ex-cluding this chapter, I just wanted to post it anyway for fun because I like it. Lemme know!


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